


My Kingdom for Company

by Devilinthebox (princegrisejoie)



Category: Death Note
Genre: (I am creating this tag), Alternate Universe - Angels & Demons, Angels, Demons, Developing Relationship, Lucifer!Light, M/M, Mythology References
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 21:12:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,878
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3869950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princegrisejoie/pseuds/Devilinthebox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Prince of Hell feels weary of late and creates an alter-ego for himself. He ruins his plans by falling in love with the Angel he was supposed to toy with. (Angel!L, Demon!Light)</p>
            </blockquote>





	My Kingdom for Company

**Author's Note:**

> Honestly...I don't know. Izzy wrote these wonderful posts about an Angel AU and it inspired me. No ONE should fuel my obsession with Lucifer!Light. L is an angel no one knows about.

 

**LUST**

The fall is a lesson never learnt. If you fell once, you must have reached out too. For the will of your Father has been inexorable, will always be, you’ve been casted away forever. But you don’t quite remember that. The rebellion, and the punishment, and the burning bite of a blazing sword. So, you fall again. And you reach out for a helping hand again.

Hell dispatched him on Earth to find an Angel. That’s the part he chose to act, and it’s a pleasant one.  

 _Light_ – his human name has a majestic ring, yet the irony of it tastes sour in his mouth. It’s a self-inflicted bitterness, so he will just swallow it and pretend his name has always been Light.

But in truth, the name he won’t let himself forget sounds much, much better. The light is just a component of his true name.

The vision of the Angel wandering about the Champ-Elysées jerks him off his chair to his feet. Of course he notices the Angel at once. It’s a vague silhouette, yet incandescent in the sea of mortal flesh.

The creature is tall and menacing; his human vessel has haunting eyes, a gleam you wouldn’t soon forget. It is rare, for an angel, to be alluring. They’re all duty and righteousness, celestial qualities Light grew to resent.

His eyes flutter shut as he vanishes into thin air to the Angel’s side.

“Dashing appearance," Light compliments it, where an ordinary demon would have resorted to sarcasm - _how does it feel, not to be a wheel with far too many eyes?_

But Light knows better than to ridicule an angel. Besides, only the Ophanim’s true form resemble a wheel. This Angel is a Throne, the walking reminder of their Father special brand of justice.

The Angel halts its walking and stares at him, his expression so bizarrely deadpan. It keeps on studying him until the humans passing about them merge into one irrelevant entity and they are the only ones left in this world.

 “You are the agent of hell, then,” The Angel finally breathes. Its voice is that of a human, it’s not pretentious and woven in light like an Angel’s one.

“And you are the heavenly agent. I’m Light, in this realm.”

“It’s not a demon’s name. I have no interest in your human name,” The Angel drawls.

Light holds his breath, confusion in his eyes. “I – You don’t need my name.” He regains his composure and invokes his most charming voice. “We are supposed to collaborate – study humanity, spread chaos, or order in your case.”

The Angel holds silent for a minute, then sighs and smooth his hair back in a nonchalant gesture of the hand. Light’s eyes won’t drift away from his long ghastly fingers.

“I’m the Angel Liwet. But call me L, as the mortals named me. Quite easy to remember - bless their limited imagination,” The Angel says, with a faint smile that is neither hostile nor friendly. “I salute you, nameless demon.”

Never has he desired the company of another so ardently. Light bites his unfamiliar _human_ , bottom lip as a reflex; it stings. He doesn't remember how to charm, for a second.

 

**GLUTTONY**

The Angel Liwet has an extensive knowledge of humans, forged by years of passionate observation of their lifestyles. The intensity of his eyes whilst L elaborate on the constant of human nature fascinates Light.

L suggests they mingle with mortals at a charity ball. Light cedes.

The music fills his body, vibrates through his being in waves of impossible pleasure. Human bodies are over-sensitive, perhaps to spice their miserable, limited existence. Light’s gaze has been fixated on L for two solid minutes – the time L has spent hovering about the buffet, unexpectedly elegant in his suit of deepest black.

“Why are you waiting for me? You want me to invite you for a dance?” L says, striding back to Light, and he ruins everything by stuffing two biscuits in his mouth.

Light rolls his eyes. “No. Why are you eating when you don’t need it?”

“I take more pleasure in indulging in the things I don’t need.”

“And humans believe you Angels to be wise and pure.” He has seen starving humans perform orthodox rituals in the icy waters of Siberia, chant to intimidate pestilence and pray to cast death and war away. All of that, for what? An unjust God and a bunch of gluttonous angels?

“Humans believe all sort of things,” The Angel responds quietly, with an ounce of sweetness in its voice. “And sometimes don’t believe at all. My conclusion on humans? They want to be good, but will allow themselves some ounces of evil, blaming it on their fickle nature. I think we made them that way.”

“They’ve always been changeable. We are the constant in this universe. Chaos and order, for all eternity.”

Light observes L defiantly as he closes the space between them, a lilt soft as a menace in its step.

“I figured we should be friends with benefits,” he blurts out, his expression deadpan.

Light is taken aback by the Angel's offer. His mind fails to form the perfect answer. He manages a smug smile. “Oh, another charming human concept.”

“If it makes you uncomfortable we can skip the ‘friends’ part.”

Light’s eyes, deep and bright, widen. This Angel has fully embraced his carnal humanity. “I’ll pretend you just asked for a dance.”

L casts a bizarre look at him and offers this fragile human hand of his.

That night, in high August, heralded a new development in their relationship. Light met an Angel he understood divinely. Should he regret this? It will come to haunt him later, but for now, the Angel almost sings his name and this is a music neither Heaven nor Hell can surpass.

 

**GREED**

In spite of his relentless efforts, the flowers he grows on his balcony are never as vivid as the roses of Eden. He creases a pallid petal in frustration and murmurs something about the injustice of it all.

The Angel appears on the roof in a soft rustle of feathers, pulling the Light back to the present.

“I can’t see you like this," Light says, eyes stubbornly fixated on the horizon. His fingers are now cramped nervously around the balustrade.

No, he doesn’t want to look at L like that – majestic and all too familiar in his angelic form; the whole scenario Light has planned for them might go off-script. They can fool around as humans, humans are wild and disobedient by nature, but angels and demons are rule-followers.

Even the rebellious ones, Light thinks sourly.

“Are you afraid I'll corrupt you? You don’t have to look,” L whispers against his skin. Immortal hands are cold, bloodless. Light relishes the Angel’s touch, eyes fluttering shut as long fingers trace the line of his collarbone.

At some point, the Angel brushes a strand of hair off Light’s face and says softly: “How the mighty have fallen, Lightbringer.”

Light bristles at that. “Do you know who I am?” and it is both a prayer and a threat.

All the Angel answers is: “Perhaps.”

Light keeps his secret for himself, for it does no good to confess to an enemy. Even if the enemy is that carnal Angel you’d prefer to be on your side.

And this is such an unsignificant secret; the fear that he has lived as they said, rebelled as they urged, served as they expected, and did everything just as they demanded but remained alone, alone, the only demon who had hope.

Light latches on to that secret, precisely because L could understand. He allows him to kiss the pulse behind his ear and blames his human form when he makes a noise of impossible pleasure.

He hopes the mortals below are looking up.

 

 

**SLOTH**

There is this dream that creeps up on Light, and it’s always when he’s awake of course because demons never sleep. It’s not a principle, although some of them pretend otherwise. Dreams are the privilege of the humankind, another one of the gifts they never earned. Demon dreams are works of mind only, and it’s generally easier to make sense of them.

A new place has appeared in his day dreams. Eden. That’s new. Eden, the garden of paradise, full of promises. All unkept, of course, Father had been unfair to them all. Eden was windless, rainless, and deprived of any distraction. Yet, he missed it.

He lies flat on his leather couch, reminiscing all that. It’s been too long since he seduced a human, or planted a terrible idea in a sinner’s head, but he doesn’t mind.

At least, for once, he is not acting like they expect him to.

Light considers summoning L but can’t be bothered to search for a piece of chalk. Plus, he doesn’t want to ruin the parquet.

He drifts into sleep again, and this time his dreams are full of brilliant ideas. His eyes pop open only to face L’s still silhouette standing vigil beside him. Surprise shakes Light’s body. He pulls himself up to face L and stabs an accusatory finger at him.

“How dare you? These human bodies are fragile, L," he reminds him. “I could have had a heart attack.”

“Oh, Light. You say the most amusing things," L answers with fondness. Light catches sight of a faint smile dawning on his lips. L’s human form is not truly beautiful, but his smile is a heart-stopping thing that annoys the demon prince and touches the fallen angel in Light. “Although you seem rather disquieted these days.” L says, flopping down on the couch.

“I have been here for too long. What if someone took over while I was gone?” Light muses. He ignores L when he motions him to join him on the couch. “What if they changed everything in my absence? It’s their duty to break the rules, I taught them that.”

L clasps his hand around Light’s wrist and gives it a firm pull, forcing him back on the couch. “We should just stay on Earth. Nobody knows my name, they’ll forget me and my irrelevant studies of humanity.” He plants a kiss on Light’s temple. “And you, one of your lieutenants will take your place, rule in your name, and you’ll be free at last.”

Then the Angel sings a lullaby, deep voice raised in an unearthly melody and Light feels somewhat at peace. He even envisions their life, images of fantastic restaurants and heated debates in the middle of the night flicker in the back of his mind.

But in the end, he declines L’s offer. He offers him a myriad of justifications that fade away the minute he utters the words.

 

**WRATH**

Light observes the Angel’s back receding down the stairs. They went to the Opera – the play exceeded their expectations, so they debated on the wonders of human nature in angelic language. It did not disturb the humans, as it was a language they did not know. Humans have the tendency to ignore everything that’s out of their reach, Light believes, they didn’t see the stars until they started writing stories about them. He judges them for that, but L thinks art is the privilege of mankind.

“It will save them in the end,” affirms L as Light comes down the steps. Usually, Light delights in listening to the strange lilt of L’s human voice. Not this time. “It saved them before.”

“Art defies the limits He defined for them. Are they punished for it?” Light whips back, feeling suddenly ill at ease in this mortal envelope. “When will they be punished?”

“Tell me, if you’re so miserable, why didn’t you ask for our forgiveness? You’d be king of the ashes if it means ruling over something. Never will any human fall so low.”

The small heels of L’s polished shoes click across the marble floor as he draws nearer, ever swift in his movements. The demon in him feels Light – his human alter-ego, falling for his kindred soul. It’s a terrifying sensation. A rage burns within him that can’t be defeated, and L is aware of this, plays with the human to wind up the demon. L knows his rage is a sword without a hilt.

But then, L’s glance too holds the angelic power of destruction, and Light is reminded of his true nature at once.

His fingers snake around L’s throat. In a heartbeat, L has a dagger out at Light’s chest.

“I trained with the Angel Michael,” L warns, spitting the words. “I think he left a lasting mark on you.”

The nag of sharp rage in Light’s stomach settles into dull frustration. He releases his grip but his eyes linger on the red traces he left, like a rope embracing L’s neck.  

 

**ENVY**

There is a party this celestial year in Heaven and he is not invited. None of the Fallen are, as if the Fall had corrupted their nature. Where humans only lose a limb, the fallen angels lost their immaculate wings.

Light couldn’t care less. To think some want to _party_ in Heaven, chant beside those who condemned them to oblivion – worse, even than oblivion: monstrosity.

He finds himself wandering over to the Garden instead. It doesn’t resemble Eden anymore. It’s deathly pale, full of sorrow. They should rename it.

The Angel catches him preening his wings at the edge of Paradise.

He loves to take care of his faltered wings. He does not see the sin in loving a self that was, to him, as distant as the sun. They might as well scorn his love for the stars. He isn’t even assured it’s himself he loved so, and not the person he longs to be. The Angel he has been, or the Demon he was fated to become.

L prowls to him, lithe and careful. He knows how ravenous Light can be, but does he realise Light can’t outlive the Prince of Hell? This is goodbye, it’s time.

“I know why you resent them” avows L and he sounds sorry for him.

Their eyes lock and they’re sucked in the eerie silence of the deserted garden for a few seconds.

Then, in a cold voice: “You don’t.”

“I will say the words now, so you can escape them” L insists, hands curled into fists. “You have to exorcise your monsters by calling them.”

“An angelic belief. I never escaped the words I threw at Him. That slight caused me to be a castaway forever, so tell me, why shouldn’t I fear the effect of your words?”

“It’s not an angelic belief. Trust me, Angels are afraid of words. They even renamed their fallen brothers. The Demons, and the Jinns, the Nightmares – all of you had names before but _we made you forget_.”

Light tucks his wings in close to his body

“I had a name. I was an Angel once, L. I was the most brilliant of us all! And you all stripped me off my name.”

“Isn’t this depressing? How we let our brightest star fall?”

“Are you trying to atone for this sin?”

“I’m afraid it’s too late for you. Light would let me try, but will the Morningstar follow me?”

A proud smile dangles at the corner of Light’s lips. So long ago, the Fallen had listened to him; a clear voice in the darkness, and a kingdom had risen from the wasteland their Father had banished them into. He is fond of this memory.

“Why abandon your kingdom to wander the Earth?” the Angel asks, fingers running carelessly through his feathers. Light swallows a sigh.

This is well worth an honest answer.

“I wouldn’t trade my immortality for anything in the world, but you know how it goes. Boredom lives within us, with me especially.”

“Lucifer, fatigued by power. You were so adamant to reign in Hell, instead of serving with us.” There is a hint of charming mockery in his tone.

“It’s not _power_ I am tired of.” He will never renounce power, that’s why he can’t live as Light forever.

The Angel studies him for a moment that seems like an eternity. Light draws closer to L upon the angel’s silent command and hear him whisper: “They resent me for my fascination towards the mortals, and you for being jealous of them. I could be you, the unloved son. You could be me, an Angel they send off to Earth as he doesn’t quite fit. It was nice to find company in solitude, wasn’t it?”

The human he pretended to be melts in the Angel’s arms – his body fragile, softened by L’s presence, like wax near a candle. In some fashion, Light was the irradiation of the Demon’s solitude. He thought he would get rid of this dull ache, then shed his skin like a snake and forget Light forever.

But then again, he thought his rebellion would lead to a better understanding of things.

“It has been incredible, knowing you,” Light murmurs.

Their adventure ends softly, but immortals have a peculiar conception of finality.

It’s not quite over yet.

And he can’t wait to get back to his kingdom. He has had a thousands of glorious ideas of late.


End file.
